Reunited!
by Corpsegirl93
Summary: Months after Victoria left him; Victor's parents arrange another marriage for their heart-broken son. Little do they know of who the bride-to-be is.
1. Lonely

**Reunited.**

**Chapter One: Lonely.**

Four months and three days – that's how long it has been since we said our goodbyes.

And since then, I haven't stopped thinking about you. Every little thing in this world reminds me of you. The way the leaves in the wind remind me of your graceful dancing. The sound of children's laughter reminds me of your cheeriness. The colour of the florist's roses reminds me of your lips. And the butterfly in my bell jar is the closest thing I have of you.

The only thing aside from that little blue butterfly I have, are the memories. Those painful, but beautiful memories of our time together – no matter how long or how short:

When we first met, our 'wedding' reception, our visit to my home, our time at the piano and our proper wedding – even if it was cut short by the pain from your past and the face of my future.

If they weren't there, would we be together?

If she had stayed away, would I be dead? If he hadn't walked in, would we be married?

Would we be dancing at our wedding reception, surrounded by skeletons?

Would we be looking in to each other's eyes, knowing we could stay like that forever?

Would we be spending the rest of our eternal lives together?

Who cares if we were rotting away?! Who cares if the living people shunned us?! Who cares about what my parents would say?!

We had each other. That's all I wanted. Now and forever.

If only you could hear my painful cries! Would you come to my bedside and aid me through this sickness? All these questions and only one wishful answer, the remedy to my sickness! Yes!

"Yes Victor, I will marry you!"

"Yes, I will stand by you forever, dead and alive."

"Yes, I will comfort you in sickness and in health."

"Yes, I love you too. And I always will."

I swear I can hear your voice ring throughout my head like the bell chime echoing in my bedroom. My sanctuary. My asylum. My safe place. As it has been since the night that you left me. I don't blame you for leaving. You wanted me to be happy. And I was. With you. If I called out to you, would you come back? Can you? Or are you finally resting in peace, up above or down below? I want you back! I want you more than life itself! Life without you isn't life at all. Answer me Emily! This loneliness is driving me insane! Seeing the same walls every day is making me ill. Just the sound of your voice will aid me in my sickness. Even if you whispered my name, that would help.

I can picture myself, standing at the altar as you fly away. I can feel the breath in my lungs returning, crying out to you.

Come back! Come back! Don't leave me! I don't love her. I love you.

Speaking of which, she left me. Four weeks ago. I woke to find her out of bed, her possessions gone, her parents in a state of panic, and her no-where to be seen. Just a little note on my bedside table, simply saying:

"You loved me once but that time has gone. Your love for me has been replaced by the love of a corpse. If you are to be happy, then so am I! I refuse to be the woman who married the man who loves the dead. I cannot face that humiliation.

So goodbye Victor. Don't expect to see me again.

Victoria"

And that was it. She had left. With another man? No one knows. If she had been seeing someone else, she kept it secret. But even if it was obvious, I wouldn't've noticed. I've been too fixated in a trance to notice time passing by in the real world.

"Where are you now?" I wonder.

Are you enjoying heaven? Or are you back downstairs with the jazz bands and skeletons, dancing every night? Are you surrounded by your friends? Are you happy? Do you miss me? Do you miss me as much as I miss you?

I hope so.

Meanwhile, downstairs:

"Full house gentlemen!" cries the General as he throws his cards on the table.

"Cheat! How did you do that?" shrieked the jazz singing skeleton.

"Another round on you then?" General Bonesapart nods to Mayhew, who simply rolls his eyes and makes his way to the bar. Resting my head in my right hand, I watch from afar, perched on a withered bar stool, ignoring my 'death punch' cocktail that sits in front of me. Pushing it aside with my skeletal hand; I glance over to the stage.

Four months and three days ago, I was up there, dancing along with Bonejangles, the story of my life flashing before me in a parade and illusion of colour, jazz and bones. The ghosts of the past recalling my foolishness, but that face in the audience reminding me of what it got me that night. A husband. The answer to my long-suffering prayers. He saved me. Set me free. Made me believe that – even after death – there was life. I saw it all in that handsome, though slightly nervous, face of my newly-wed husband. From the moment I heard his voice, I could see us together. Though I didn't see his face until I had risen from the grave and nearly scared him to death, I knew he was gorgeous. I could tell in the softness of his voice, that gentle tone that reminded me of an angel.

Even when we were arguing, I could listen to his voice forever. Smooth and addictive as chocolate. I was mesmerized when he repeated his vows to me, perfect and precise, like they had been his first words. Oh, how I wish I could hear them again. But I never will. His voice echoes in my mind like Bonejangles catchy jazz songs, but every time I hear it, he's not there. Just the voice. No person. No face. No body. Nothing. Just empty space and aching memories of the past. God it hurts! It hurts to hear his name, to picture his face, to imagine him sitting beside me at the bar, his skinny arm around me. That warming feeling that sends away any and every single problem in my life.

I was dead. I had been for some years now. I had been underground for most of that time. I've been wearing the same dress for over three years. I've done the same thing every day for four months and three days. Wake up. Get out of bed. Look in the mirror. Walk to the bar and sit there for hours on end, ignoring whatever drink they put in front of me, listening to his voice in my head.

"I like your enthusiasm."

"I ask you to be mine."

"I do."

"Emily."

Hours pass, I'm still there and I see and hear everything that goes on. The music. The lively chatter. The sound of clicking bones. The poker games. The scuttling of cockroaches. The colourful and rhythmic lights. The sound of the piano – sad or cheerful.

And once the show is over, I return to my safe place. My shelter. My haven. I lie in my bed, until the early hours of the next day arrive. Then I do it all over again. Wake up. Get up, and carry on as if my afterlife is on a constant repeat.

I am the definition of misery and pain. Any new arrival who is overjoyed to be alive after death sees my lonely face, and the joy simply goes. Anyone who comes near me can feel my misery, making even the happiest of spirits miserable and depressed.

I can't help it! It's not my fault he was already in love! All I did was set him free so he could be happy. And he is, so I hope. He has the woman he loves, his life set in front of him. Marriage, children, a warm home, happiness and love forever. And if not? Then this suffering was for nothing!

I try to use this as a pick-me-up but it never works. I try to picture him with his new wife but every time I do, I can only picture us at the altar, facing each other and smiling like there was no tomorrow. I see her face but it's replaced with my own. It sounds selfish, I know, but I can't help myself or my feelings.

Bonejangles is beside me right now, having jumped down from the stage, saying in his gruff but kind voice:

"You let him go so he could happy. Try and feel that happiness with him, Emily. Otherwise, you're damned to spend the rest of your afterlife living up to your name."

He was right. If I didn't do something about this, I would forever and always been known as 'the Corpse Bride'. The name says it all. The woman in love who waited for her lover, only to be murdered in return for jewels and riches. Typical!

So having heard this, what did I do? I looked up to Bonejangles as he got off his stool and watched him walk away, and thought. What do I do?

Keep myself distracted from my thoughts or roll in my own misery?

Deciding what to do, I grabbed my 'death punch' cocktail and turned to the poker table. Mayhew was returning with a new round of drinks, and the jazz singing skeleton was walking away from the table – just as a new game was being dealt.

Leaping off the bar stool and walking over to the table, the men look up and see me, glass in hand and eagerness in my eyes.

"Room for a lady, gentlemen?" I ask, politely and seductively. They all look at me, surprised. What was the lonely Corpse Bride doing, asking to join in a poker game? They could think what they wanted, but according to the General, "no one can resist the charm of Miss Emily". So getting up and offering me the free seat, I sit myself on the plush cushioning of the chair and rest my glass on the table, placing my blue hands on the table, one on top of the other.

"So gentlemen – who's dealing?" And so, my recovery begins.

Two days later:

Four months and five days. Yes, I count every day that passes. And I will until you return to me. Do you care? Should you care? Not really. I was the one who got myself in to this mess, and I should be the one to get myself out of it. No one else.

Well, I say that but it isn't working. Mother and father are absolutely livid that the 'richest' and 'most beautiful' girl in the village betrayed their only son. Seeing as it's been four weeks since I became a bachelor for the second time, mother is already eager to find me a new wife. Not that I'm rushing alongside her. You can find me the prettiest, the richest or the best girl in 1000 miles but they won't be Emily. They won't have her charm, her laughter, or her sense of life and freedom. They won't be _**her**_.

Of course, mother and father have no idea of what happened during my absence when I was engaged to Victoria. The last time they saw me, I was running out of the Everglot's mansion like an angry dog was biting at my heels. The next time they saw me, I was home with Victoria, sitting by the fire. She was cherishing the sensation of being a newlywed wife in her husband's arms, whilst I was thinking over my mistakes.

Mother and father were out searching for me when Emily and I – along with the rest of the Land of the Dead – arrived to begin our wedding. They know nothing about Emily, but they know of the walking dead that suddenly arrived in our village, scaring the locals before making their way to the church for a 'ceremony to remember' – in so many ways!

So whenever mother approaches me when I rarely enter the kitchen for a bite to eat, she oversees my depression and goes on talking about how she'll find me 'a better wife'.

"Good luck mother" is what I'd say, if I had the chance. "You can search the seven seas and inside every mountain but you'll never find her. You never will." And with that thought in my head, I ignore my mother and fathers remarks and journey back to my room, where I coop myself up for as long as it takes. However long it may be until Emily returns, alive or dead.

At the same time, downstairs:

"Two pairs gentlemen!" I cry, laying my cards on the table.

"That's the third time today, Miss Emily. How do you do it?"

"A lady never reveals such secrets" I smile cheekily, as the General threw his cards on the table, admitting defeat once again. "Dare I say I shall get the next lot of drinks, gentlemen?"

"I won't say no" Mayhew kindly answered. I scooped up a few coins from the pile of my earnings and got up from my seat, the bar in my line of sight. Ignoring the voices in my head and concentrating on the click of my heels on the wooden floor, I approach Paul the head waiter.

"Two pints and I'll try…the 'Corpse Reviver' cocktail please." Whilst waiting for the line of cockroaches to prepare my drinks, I look around the bar. I see Bonejangles prepare for another night of fun and entertainment, the little skeleton children playing with their toys and…the familiar sound of a certain dog, approaching me from the distance.

Scraps! Victor's late, faithful and trusty canine companion was scurrying towards me so fast that his little legs might fall off at any moment. Without hesitation he leapt towards me and landed square in my chest, my arms enveloping him immediately as he still scurries with excitement.

"Hello Scraps. What are you doing here? Who's a good boy? You are, Scraps. You're a good boy" I say playfully, watching his little tail wag back and forth with such a vigorous motion. As I finished speaking to him, he leapt from my arms on to the floor, landing softly before grabbing on to the skirt of my dress with his teeth and tugging me in the direction he came from.

"What is it boy? What's wrong?" He yapped at my feet, looking back and forth from where he came, continuously tugging on my dress.

"You want me to follow?" I asked him. His simple reply of one single high-pitched yap meant "Yes!"

"Paul, I'm sorry, forget the cocktail. The General and Mayhew want the pints though, at the poker table. I'm sorry but Scraps wants me to go with him."

Paul kindly allowed me to go, summoning a skeleton to escort the drinks over to the poker table where the General and Mayhew waved me a farewell as I allowed Scraps to direct me to wherever he meant me to go.

Walking out of the pub and following the little skeleton dog down the streets of the Land of the Dead made me realise where I was going before I had even caught sight of the building. Elder Gutknecht's tower.

It stood amongst the Land of the Dead, decreasing the average sized house to look like a single storey hut. When I turned another corner, I saw Scraps standing at the foot of the stairs, looking up, indicating me to climb them. As I did, he clattered up behind me and ran on ahead, barking his head off as he did.

"Evidently, Elder Gutknecht has sent Scraps to fetch me" I thought to myself. I was right. When I got to the top of the stairs, I found Elder Gutknecht watching me, Scraps sitting beside him like the faithful companion he is.

"I'm assuming you wanted to see me?" I asked, as I placed both feet off the stairs and on to Elder Gutknecht's territory.

"You guess correctly, my dear."

"What for?"

"My dear, are you aware of any astrological events happening recently? Or approaching soon?" he asked me.

"Not that I'm aware of. I know nothing of astrology."

"Just as well." He turned his head to a small mountain of books and reached forward a boney hand of his, grabbing a book that sat on top of the pile. He opened it, the pages falling apart and settling on one random page. The Elder smiled as he studied this page, slowly turning away and walking up to his podium where he stood when Victor and I asked for a spell to transport us to the Land of the Living.

"My dear, please come forward" he beckoned me closer to the podium. I walked forward, my heels echoing across the floor until I stood immediately below him, looking up to see him tracing a finger down the page of the book.

"My dear, if you were given one wish in this world, what would it be? No matter how ludicrous or impossible?"

"No matter how impossible?" I repeated. Thinking to myself, I wondered: what would I wish for?

To see my parents again?

To be alive?

To see Victor again, even for a few minutes or forever?

"But I have so many" I answered.

"Out of all those, choose one." He instructed me.

"One?!"

Well, which one would it be? Mum and Dad? Life? Or Victor?

"Life." I answered. "I'd choose to live again. Because all the other wishes wouldn't be accomplished unless I was alive again."

"Correct answer, my dear." Though he showed little movement, I could tell by the tone of his voice that he was smiling.

"Correct answer? Why?" And then he explained it all.

"Every few hundred years, an astrological phenomenon occurs. Every single planet in this solar system aligns with one another, creating a perfectly straight line. In addition, a stream of energy is fired towards a certain point. This energy – so powerful as it is – is very special, especially to the living dead."

"How come, Elder?"

"This energy, my dear, this energy…can resume a lost ones previous life. In a simpler way…it brings you back to life."

"It what?" I asked, astounded.

"It brings you back to life." By now, he was leaning far over his podium and staring down at me with his dark, empty eye sockets.

"Not possible" I said. "Once you're dead, you're dead. A rotting corpse, a body in the ground, a lost loved one."

"It _**is**_ possible, my dear. That is why I asked you the question. If you could have your wish, would you return to life? Back upstairs? To your mother and father? To him?"

I paused, knowing my answer but too nervous and shocked to say it. Elder looked at me intently, forcing the answer out of my cold pink lips.

"Yes. Yes, I would."

"Good answer. Because, my dear, I am giving you this opportunity. The astrological phenomenon – let's call it the energy stream – shall arrive here, at this point of my tower tomorrow morning at approximately nine o clock."

"Nine o clock…tomorrow?" I stuttered.

"Morning, yes" he nodded.

"And I will…return?"

"To life, yes."

"It's not possible."

"You'd better believe it is."

Oh my goodness! Another chance at life? A chance to go home to Mum and Dad! Back home to my previous life! A chance to see Victor!

Victor.

"What do I have to do?" I asked Elder Gutknecht.

"Pack a bag, my dear. You're going home."

And with those words, I rushed down the stairs.

The next morning:

"Is that everything?" I asked myself. Mentally ticking off my list of possessions, I packed my bag, overlooking the contents of my suitcase.

"Mirror, hairbrush, shoes, books and fathers watch – not much."

Snapping the suitcase shut and saying farewell to my room where I had lived out the past four months of my afterlife, I hurried to Elder Gutknecht's tower. I had said my goodbyes to everyone I knew. The men at the pub, Bonejangles, the kind women, the little children and Scraps. They had shed their tears for me and wished me good luck.

Arriving at Elder Gutknecht's tower, the sudden revelation came over me – I was going home. It felt so good to say out loud. As I ran up the stairs, I spread my arms wide with glee, a huge smile spread across my face as I cried at the top of my dead lungs:

"I'm going home!"

"She's here!" I heard Elder's voice cry and I entered his tower. He was assembling some strange contraption that looked like a large telescope, one end pointing to the empty black sky past the ruined roof of his tower, the other end pointing to a small podium – presumably where I would stand.

"You sure this will work? I'm having slight doubts."

"Of course it will, my dear. Records from hundreds of years ago prove it. Three men who died in a storm on a ship were reincarnated five years later, when the planets aligned. If three men can do it at once, so can you." I pulled out my father's pocket watch to check the time.

"When precisely will it happen?" I asked the Elder.

"At exactly nine o clock. Not a minute early, not a minute late." Checking the watch, my dead heart almost skipped a beat with excitement as I realised:

"Only six minutes to go."

I stood on the podium, suitcase in hand, adrenaline pumping through my dead veins. Elder Gutknecht was standing at his place on his podium, checking the last minute details, mumbling to himself.

"Everything OK?" I called out.

"Perfectly alright, my dear. Only two minutes now. Are you ready?" I looked at him with such excitement that I didn't need to speak to give him an answer.

"60 seconds" he called out.

"So, what do I do? Do I just keep still?" I called out as the clock started ticking.

"Close your eyes and count to five, when they open you'll be alive."

And with 30 seconds remaining, I shut my eyes.

"Tell me when to count to five!"

The last thing I heard was Elder Gutknecht shouting a countdown, before I could feel a warm glowing presence in front of me, like a cloud of sun hovering in front of my face. I dared to open my eyes, but I promised myself that I wouldn't open my eyes until I was sure I was alive.

1…the warmth got hot, hot and hotter by the second. I could feel this warmth on my skin…wait, I could feel it?

2…I felt something move inside me, like my…my organs were restoring themselves.

3…I could feel breath in my lungs. Proper breath. Air that I could taste on my tongue with such a delight.

4…I felt my hair rushing in a strong wind, my dress billowing in the wind, starting to feel a cool breeze on my arms and my legs.

5…A bitter cold air on my cheeks. Cold air? When I had just been warmer than ever in my life. So I opened my eyes. And smiled.

I had a heartbeat, and I was home.


	2. Home

**Chapter Two: Home.**

**Emily:**

I was home. I WAS HOME!

A beating heart in chest, working organs, a functioning brain, all my senses back. I could feel the cool breeze on my skin. I could hear the call of birds in the trees. I could see the sun climbing high in the morning sky. I could taste the crisp air on my tongue. I could smell flowers in bloom. Fumbling in to my suitcase, I found my mirror. A small thing no bigger than a book that had hung on my wall since I started living in that small room. I braced myself, preparing for whatever I might see before me. I held it up.

Looking straight in to it, I saw my reflection. Soft skin, rosy cheeks, pink lips, brown eyes, long eyelashes, long flowing brown wavy hair, perfectly shaped ears. I ran my fingers through my hair, then noticing that my left hand had now been covered in flesh, my nails long and perfect. In addition, I looked down. My dress – my mother's wedding gown – was as if it had never been worn. The hole where my ribs were, was patched up and whole. The rips in the skirt were fixed. The dust and dirt from the underground has been cleaned away, restoring it to the sparkling white gown it was several years ago. I stood on the spot, numb with delight. I could feel warm blood rushing through my veins as I looked around.

I went to jump up and down with such delight and ecstasy that I almost forgot as to where I had landed. Delaying my excitement, I looked around.

I knew where I was. Three years ago, I stood on this spot wherein my love took my life. This was where Barkis had murdered me. I turned to see the spot where…oh my goodness! I turned to the spot where I had been buried, shocked to see that from where I had emerged when Victor found me – the hole was still visible. Wide, open and gaping, as if inviting me back to the darkness that enveloped me for years. Digging my fine, white heeled shoes in to the soil of the ground, I flicked a lump of dirt in to the hole, as a personal accomplishment to prove that my past was now history. What happened on the night that I died was just a memory. I recalled that night. That long ago night. It seemed like yesterday that I was rising from that ground and towering over my beloved.

Speaking of which, I wasn't far. His home was only a few minutes' walk away from here. I remember from the night he took me to meet 'his parents', betraying me for Victoria instead. I had followed his footsteps through the snow, over the bridge and through the village square to his home, just four doors away from my own home. Maybe he knew my parents? Who knows? Maybe I might glimpse him walking with Victoria? Just to see him happy would fulfil my wishes. Making him happy made me happy.

So grabbing my suitcase and putting my mirror away, I took a deep, amazing breath in my fully-restored lungs and made my way towards the village square.

Walking towards the square, I suddenly remembered what I was doing. I was a missing girl returning home. Returning home after three years of absence, wearing the same clothes as she did on the night she disappeared. Maybe people knew I was dead. Maybe they would recognise me from my wedding to Victor four months ago. Maybe someone spotted me during the commotion and now recognised me as I approached home. Stopping on the edge of the woods, I thought to myself. After a moment's hesitation, I placed my hand on my head, feeling my veil over my hair. I could picture the shock reaction already.

"Look at that girl! Doesn't she look familiar? It can't be her, can it? And why is she wearing those clothes? Did she just get married?"

Dropping my suitcase again on the ground, I grabbed my veil from my head, tore off my white gloves and stuffed them in to my bag, slamming it shut with a click as I left behind the 'Corpse Bride' and became Emily, once again. Walking through the village in just a white dress and shoes shouldn't be too suspecting, could it? Maybe people won't recognise me and assume me to be a traveller? I hoped so. The last thing I wanted was to attract a crowd.

Picking up my suitcase yet again, I continued walking home. I could picture Mum and Dad, standing in the doorway, amazed at the sight of their only daughter returning home after…after what? What would I tell them?

"Hello mother and father, I'm back from the dead after I betrayed your trust to marry a man who killed me three years ago. Did you keep my room just as I left it?"

I giggled at this thought as I spotted my home from a distance.

Wow! Nothing about it had changed. The doors were the same colour, the statues were the same shape, and the windows were still clean. I was amazed at how organised the house was from the outside, wondering if it was just as magnificent on the inside. Walking closer, my heart racing in my chest, I climbed the small stairs and held my hand out to the door. If present times were like they were when I left, my friend and maid Beatrice would answer the door. Taking a deep breath, I clasped my hand around the family door knocker and slammed it down hard on the door, recalling the strength I had in my arms as I lifted the heavy iron knocker with such ease.

The knock echoed loudly and moments later, I could hear light and hurrying footsteps on the floor. That sounded like Beatrice. I smiled brightly, smoothing my hair over with my free hand and waited for the door to open.

Beatrice, standing there in her maid's uniform, with her going-grey hair tied in a low bun, looked at me up and down. Her eyes paused on my face, her welcoming smile fading to a stunned expression as her lower jaw dropped, and she stood there, gaping at me.

"Hello Beatrice" I said politely.

"Oh my goodness" she whispered.

"Beatrice, I know this may seem as a bit of a shock, but you must understand that…" She slammed the door in my face before I could finish my sentence.

Several minutes passed before I heard her recognisable footsteps again, this time followed by some more. Mum? Dad? Were they following Beatrice as they made their way to the door that would open…it opened wide. There before me stood Beatrice beside the two most important people in my life.

My Mum and Dad.

They looked just as stunned as Beatrice. Mum was dressed in a dark blue dress that stopped at her feet, complete with white lace across her chest and at the cuffs of the sleeves. Her brown hair has become riddled with thin lines of grey and her hands were starting to show her age.

Dad was wearing a dark brown suit, his waistcoat the colour of the ocean at night, his tie a mixture of brown and grey. His shoes were spotless as ever and his hair was just as groomed as when I had left.

"Hello Mum. Hello Dad" I said nervously, feeling the mixture of adrenaline and nerves rushing through my veins. Mum was the first to walk forward, slowly raising her right hand so that it met my face. She caressed my cheek so lightly, it felt like clouds were passing over my face.

"Emily? My baby Emily?" she whispered, tears pricking her eyes. I couldn't help but mirror her. Tears started protruding from my eyes and running down my face like rivers. Mum looked over me in every little detail before she placed her hand on the back of my neck and pulling me strongly towards her, embracing me in a hug. Letting the tears fall uncontrollably, I hugged Mum back, my suitcase falling to the floor in a thump as I embraced her in return.

"It's me Mum. I've come home."

Looking over her shoulder, I saw my Dad. My tall, strong, brave Dad attempting to hold his own tears back. He was my over-sized teddy bear – protective of me and as soft as butter inside. When Mum finally let me go, he came closer to me. He retained his tall, proud posture as he always did as he approached me, looking down from his immense height, the tears falling one after another.

"My Emily, home after all this time?"

"Yes Dad. I'm home."

And with that, he pulled me in to the house, embracing me in an even bigger hug and shutting the door behind us.

It was official.

I was home.


	3. The Second Engagement

**Chapter Three: The Second Engagement.**

**Victor: 3 weeks later:**

Four months, three weeks and six days have passed. And today is probably the most dreaded of them all. Mother and father have arranged to meet a new wife for me, their only son. This is just what I need! My mother's constant bickering. Her picking at every detail of Victoria's 'betrayal', my depression and the time 'wasted that could've been spent looking for a wife'. She never stopped. It was like listening to a cuckoo bird on constant repeat. It never shut up! And like a woodpecker inside my head, it always hurt. The last thing I wanted was to meet a woman with a mother like mine beside me, and my face that said "I'm trying to make an effort but only because of her, not because I want to".

In ten minutes, the carriage would come to take us to the Hunter's mansion. There I would meet their only daughter. Their 'beautiful and elegant' daughter, who apparently fits a perfect description to becoming my next wife. 'My next wife'. Ha, how odd it sounded to say that – aloud and in my head. Sitting in my room and gazing out of the window, I heard the sound of horses hooves against the cobbled street as my family's horse and carriage circled the village to arrive at our door. I didn't need to look down from where I sat to see all this. I had become so aware of the different noises around me. The bell ringer alerting us of the latest news. The little children playing with their wooden toys, clicking and tapping on the cobbles. The slow but steady step of Gertrude, the widow who was reunited with long-dead husband Alfred when Emily and I came for our wedding. The sound of her walking stick and her shoes echoed lightly across the town. And finally, the sound of the horse, indicating that it was time to go. Sighing heavily and counting silently in my head, I waited for that cry. That screeching cry from a certain women who's constant bickering had become the most annoying thing in my life.

"5…4…3…2…1…" I waited patiently for…

"Victor!"

"And there it is" I said aloud. Shutting the windows of my bedroom, I got up from my seat by my desk and made my way towards my door, passing my mirror and repositioning my tie again, having lost count of how many times I had done this. Looking in the mirror, gazing at my reflection, I was horrified.

Spending all those days crying over Emily and hoping for her return had made me fast in my own home. There was plenty of food in the kitchen, but I couldn't recall myself venturing downstairs on more than a couple of occasions to fetch a bite or two to eat. Even then, it was only a slice of bread, a piece of fruit or a glass of water. My depression had made me look so pale, so fragile and so ill. I had lost quite some weight that it scared me.

Maybe a new wife would be ok for me after all. Maybe she would be a good cook and help me recover from my despair and misery? Who knew?

Cringing at the sound of my mother's cry for a second time, I leapt out of the door, down the stairs of our home and through the main double doors, out in to the bright sunlight that struck me like a dagger through the heart. It was harsh and unbearably bright and made me realise how long it had been since I had seen the sun that wasn't coming through my bedroom window. Taking a deep breath and shielding my eyes from the piercing sun, I made my way in to the carriage where mother and father were waiting for me. Mother sat opposite me, watching me with eagle eyes as I entered the carriage and shut the door firmly behind me with my skinny arms. Father simply stared ahead and balanced on his walking stick, as mother ordered the driver to go. It had taken time for them to find a new driver after Mayhew died, but soon enough, he had been replaced.

Trying – and failing – to avoid mother's gaze, I stared out of the window of the carriage as we made our way to the Hunter's mansion.

"The Hunter's have got a daughter. I can't remember her name. Apparently, she's been missing for the past three years. And suddenly, she turned up out of no-where a couple of weeks ago, claiming she couldn't remember a thing since the night she disappeared. According to her father, she was 'the most beautiful girl in the village for miles' before she left. Then Victoria took her place. Count yourself lucky Victor. If that Everglot girl hadn't left you, you wouldn't be marrying the most beautiful girl in this village. You two will be perfect together – even if she is a little amnesiac." Ignoring most of what she said, I finally looked to mother, only making eye contact for a few seconds before turning away again, resting my head in my hand.

"Mother, I have said it once and I will say it again: I've never spoken to her. How do you know we'll be perfect together if I don't know her full name?" She merely replied with:

"Mothers instinct."

Meanwhile, at the Hunter's mansion: 

Emily:

Today was the day.

"Single today, married by this time tomorrow" I thought as I brushed my hair, gazing in to my mirror at my dressing table, as Beatrice pulled out my dress for the day. I looked in the reflection as she retrieved an old favourite of mine – a purple floor-length dress, complete with lace details around the bodice, long-sleeved and finished with more lace around the cuffs of the sleeve. Mother had taken me clothes shopping on my sixteenth birthday, saying I could have whatever I loved and when I saw that dress, I didn't need to look anywhere else and for anything more. My heart had picked that dress. The colour, the design, the detail, the finish, the fabric and the fit. Everything about it was perfect. I just hoped that my new husband would be the same. Perfect, or as close as could be.

Watching Beatrice lay my dress out on my bed, I heard the distant sound of horse hooves on the cobbles. I didn't need to look out the window to know that that was my fiancé and his parents, coming to visit us. I held back my urges to rush to the balcony in my night robe and gaze down to see what he looked like, but my instincts told me not to. If I spoiled the surprise now, walking in to that room where the rehearsal would be was a guaranteed let-down. Resisting the urge, I carried on brushing my hair, fumbling and shaking with nerves combined with dread. Clenching my fist and resting it over my mouth, I laid down the brush on my dressing table and stared at the reflection, not registering what I was looking at. Beatrice smoothed out the creases in my dress and looked to me, concerned.

"Miss Emily?" she asked, snapping me out of my trance.

"Emily, are you alright?"

"I'm fine" I lied. "Just pre-wedding nerves, that's all. Nothing to worry about" I replied, shaking my head, and running my fingers through my hair. The sound of the door slamming shut made me realise – he was in the building. My fiancé was downstairs. My living, breathing fiancé was waiting for me at that moment. A voice inside my head was screaming, both with delight and dread. I didn't know whether to smile or quiver with fear. I chose neither. I merely stood up from the mirror and approached Beatrice.

"He's here" she said as I came closer.

"Yes…he is" I sighed, admiring my dress on my bed. I smiled at the thought of wearing this again, attempting to use this as a cover of my real emotions.

"Be happy Emily, you're getting married tomorrow. You should be flooded with excitement" the voice in my head said.

"I know I should be, but the last two weddings of mine ended with death and misery."

"Ready?" Beatrice asked me, holding up my dress to me, indicating that she was ready.

"Yes. Come on then, let's not keep them waiting" I faked a smile.

Downstairs: Victor:

Well, I was amazed. The Hunter's mansion was a sight for sore eyes. Glistening in every aspect, every final detail gleaming with a dazzle. Every little thing was perfect. The way the portraits hung, the blazing heat from the fireplace, the quality of the leather armchairs by the fire, the smell of a roast dinner wafting from the kitchens, the piano sitting in the corner and the cleanliness of the windows, making the outside light seem even brighter.

The Hunter's – dressed in their finest – were approaching us from a door to the left hand side of the hallway. Mrs Hunter was wearing a dark red dress that trailed behind her, her going-white brown hair and her hands slightly aged and withered. Mr Hunter was wearing a very fine suit, his hair groomed to perfection, his highly polished shoes clicking on the floor as they walked towards us, a big smile spread across their faces.

"Mrs Van Dort, at last. I have been so eager to finally meet you. My husband has said such lovely things about you" Mrs Hunter held her hand out to greet my mother, who gladly shook it.

"Mrs Hunter" my mother acknowledged, beaming with delight.

"Mr Van Dort" Mrs Hunter smiled, repeating the same gesture to my father, as Mr Hunter turned to greet mother. In perfect unison, Mr and Mrs Hunter turned to see me, their eyes trailing up and down, inspecting me from every possible angle.

"And this must be Master Victor Van Dort" Mrs Hunter beamed, approaching me with the same gesture. Taking her hand in mine and bowing slightly before her – as mother had instructed me – I smiled graciously, attempting to hide my anxiety and worry bubbling inside me. Still, I clenched my teeth and did my best not to screw up another marriage.

"Mrs Hunter" I said, rising from my bow. Looking over her shoulder, I walked to Mr Hunter who was still inspecting me.

"Mr Hunter, pleasure to finally meet my father-in-law." I took his hand and shook it firmly, trying to reassure him that the person marrying his daughter was a man, not a silly little schoolboy as I had been with Victoria.

"Master Van Dort" he returned, accepting my handshake and grinning from ear to ear, hopefully in acceptance.

"The Pastor is waiting for us. All we need now is our daughter." Mrs Hunter spoke, looking up the stairs to a large corridor cloaked in darkness.

"She shouldn't be too long. She's ever so excited" Mr Hunter added.

"We can happily wait with the Pastor if that suits you, Mrs Van Dort?" Mrs Hunter asked.

"Much" my mother replied, instantly making her way across the hallway floor towards the door where my rehearsal was to be held. Father followed slowly behind her, Mr and Mrs Hunter quickly pouncing in front so as to remind them of their authority in their home.

Leaving me behind in the hallway – yet again – I heard my mother talking to Mrs Hunter as they disappeared.

"Mrs Hunter, may I call you by your first name?"

"If you wish. It's Margaret."

"Nell" she replied. "And I do apologise, but I have forgotten your daughter's name. May I ask?"

"Not at all. Her name is…" and with that they closed the door behind them, the sound echoing across the hallway. I sighed, bowing my head slightly and relaxing. My posture had been at its best in those few minutes, as to improve my image towards the Hunters.

Who would want their daughter to marry a slouching idiot?

Looking around again and reminding myself of why I was here, I caught sight of the piano. A beautiful model, glossy and black, the keys covered in dust. On top was a large colourful painted vase of flowers – red and pink roses, white lilies and baby's breath flowers, bloomed and flourished. Tracing my fingers along the keys, they came away covered in dust. Wiping this away, it made me wonder. Why have a piano if it was never to be played? A place to put the flowers? There was plenty of room on top of the fireplace. Maybe it was a finishing touch to add a sense of homeliness? Maybe they bought the piano in the hope someone would use it, but never did. Or maybe their daughter played but forgot how to since she disappeared? Too many questions over one piano, but regardless, it made me wonder. Admiring it from afar, I continued strolling around the hallway, almost counting the seconds that passed.

How much longer would she be, whoever my fiancé was?

Upstairs: Emily:

This was it. He was here! In my home. Downstairs with my parents and my future in-laws.

Dressed to perfection, my hair and make-up at its best, I looked at myself in the mirror. I found it hard to believe that four weeks ago, when I looked at my reflection, I saw just a corpse. Now everything was as it should be. Victor was with Victoria, I was alive, I was home with Mum and Dad and I was about to marry – again.

Taking a deep breath and rising from my dressing table seat, I started walking towards my bedroom door. Opening it widely and walking down the corridor, I prepared myself for the revelation.

Who was my fiancé?

The Reunion: Victor:

I waited patiently in the hallway, pacing up and down in slow, quiet steps that gently echoed off the walls. I occasionally glanced over to a nearby mirror to confirm that I was still presentable. My hair was tidy, my suit was neat and clean and my shoes were polished to perfection. I fumbled with my tie over and over again, finding something to keep me busy whilst I waited. Waiting. That's all I've ever done for the past four months. Waiting and waiting for…for something that will never return. It was only now that reality was sinking in. I was beginning to realise that my dreams weren't coming true. Emily wasn't coming back. She wasn't coming back to me and that was that. No more could be done. I had to move on now. For the sake of my sanity and my future, I had to accept that the past was the past. It hurt to admit the truth to myself but what else could I do? Writhe in my own self-pity for the rest of my life, knowing the one got away? No. I had to do something. And this was the first step towards that change. Any moment, my new fiancé would walk down those stairs and the rehearsal would begin.

Speaking of which, I could hear footsteps. Light, graceful footsteps slowly making their way down the corridor – to me. I saw a shadow cast on the wall upstairs, and my instant reaction was to look away. So I did. I knew I should've been watching my fiancé approach me, but my nerves were too overpowering. I turned away, facing the main doors. Fumbling with my tie, shaking in my shoes, and listening to every footstep made, I counted the seconds until it stopped, and then I would turn around and face her.

One by one, the footsteps got closer. One by one, I became more nervous.

Then they stopped. I felt her eyes staring at me, wanting me to face her. She coughed very lightly, telling me of her presence. Swallowing my anxiety, I took a deep breath, placed my hands at my sides and turned – very slowly – to face her. I kept my head down, until the very last moment. I saw the bottom of her dress. It was purple with touches of lace. Now to match a body with a face. Counting to three, I braced myself. This was it.

1…feeling the muscles in my neck starting to move.

2…my head beginning to rise, slowly.

3…coming face to face with Miss Hunter…

I saw her face. That face…that face! It couldn't be…!

The Reunion: Emily:

Walking down the corridor took longer than I had thought. I had wandered the halls of this house all of my life, but it only took three years of absence for me to realise how long they were and what I was used to in the past. Throwing this ridiculous opinion out of my head, I came to the top of the stairs. I could see him! Ah, I could see him…but he wasn't facing me. He was rather skinny, tall with glossy dark hair, dressed in a fine suit. I could tell he was nervous. Judging by the movements around his chest, I guessed he was fiddling with his tie. I felt sorry for him. So nervous about getting married for the first and only time – never an easy task for anyone, no matter how excited or how worried they were.

Coming to the first step on the stairs, I slowly made my way down, lifting my dress so I didn't trip. The last thing I wanted was to make a fool of myself in front of my fiancé, as well as hurt myself the day before my wedding. Step by step, I got ever so closer to him.

My heart was racing with excitement. It felt like it would explode from my chest at any time. Ha, I could finally say that to myself after three years.

Reaching the bottom of the stairs, I took three steps closer to him, his back still turned to me. A coughed lightly, acknowledging that I was behind him. Taking a deep breath as he began to turn to face me, I placed my hands on my stomach, glancing over at the mirror to check my hair and make-up, even though it had only been three minutes since it was perfected.

When I turned back to see him, he was raising his head. I put on a smile, just as his eyes met mine. Those eyes. That face. That hair. That body. Him. Him!

The Reunion: Narrator:

They stared at one another, completely stunned and stuck on the spot. Victor looked at Emily, mesmerized at every detail of her. Emily looked at Victor, so many questions rushing through her head simultaneously. Emily felt light-headed from shock, her body going limp and weak. As she saw her vision fade, Victor noticed what was happening and lunged forward to Emily, catching her in his arms as she fainted. Recalling the armchairs by the fire, he took her limp body in his arms and gently carried her over to one, letting her body sag in to the leather seat, her dress trailing across the floor.

Victor looked over to the door where his parents and the Hunter's had disappeared, noticing no movement from them. Good. He looked down to Emily, still unconscious in the armchair. Kneeling beside her, watching her silently as she rested, Victor noticed every little detail of her perfect face. The colour of her cheeks, her long elegant eyelashes, her soft rosy lips and the way her brown wavy hair cascaded down past her shoulders. She was perfect in every way. Especially in that dress of hers. Her breathing was slow, calm and relaxed, and she was so peaceful as she rested. She was here. She was actually here!

Moments later, her eyelids flickered. Victor prepared himself for when she woke, wondering what the first words she said to him would be. She slowly opened her eyes, the light from the fire making them sparkle, highlighting their rich colour. She inhaled deeply, looking around as she realised where she was. Silently recalling what had just happened, she slowly turned her head to see Victor, still kneeling besides her, gazing at her with his adorable eyes.

"Hello Emily" he smiled.

"Victor? How are you here? I must be dreaming." Emily stared at him, amazed.

"This is no dream. This is real."

"It can't be. It's impossible."

"Not at all impossible. Just unexpected. Another thing that's unexpected is you. How are you here? And alive?" Victor asked, moving slightly closer to her.

"That's a long story" Emily responded quickly. "You're marrying me?"

"Don't sound so surprised" he replied, a hint of sarcasm in his voice.

"I am surprised! It was only four months ago that you said you'd never marry me!"

"That was a different situation, Emily. I loved Victoria."

"Loved Victoria?"

"I don't anymore. She left me. About two months ago."

"Two months? But why?"

"That's a long story too" he answered.

"Touché" Emily smiled. Her smile faded when she saw the way Victor looked at her, still admiring every feature of her face. "Something intrigue you?"

"Yes. You. You're alive. My goodness, you're alive Emily!"

"I am. I have been for the past three weeks."

"Three weeks?! How is it possible that you are…Elder Gutknecht?" Victor smiled. I nodded in response, smiling gladly.

"Yes. He worked an absolute miracle. It was completely unexpected. He didn't tell me of it until a few hours before."

"A few hours before what?"

"Are you interested in astrology Victor?"

"Not really, no."

"Well, every hundred years or so, the planets in our solar system align in a perfect line, and it creates this energy that allows the dead to return to life. And guess who Elder Gutknecht picked for the opportunity" Emily smiled, spreading her arms wide. "And as soon as I arrived back here, in the Land of the Living, I returned home."

"But why here?"

"Why here? Because it's my home! I live here, and I have since the day I was born, right up to this day – excluding the years I was 'away'. Why would you ask that Victor?"

"You could've come back to me. Why didn't you?" Victor answered immediately, his eyes full of misery and desire.

"You were married to Victoria! I assumed you two were happy together and accepted that you had moved on. How was I supposed to know she left you? I was moving on. I was given the opportunity to have my old life back, and I took it! Don't look at me like that Victor.

I meant for us all to be happy. You got your wife, Victoria got her husband, and I was free and happy because you were too. So don't stand there and assume I was selfish and self-centred just because I didn't do what you thought should've happened. I was thinking about you the entire time. If I was so self-absorbed and arrogant, I would've made you drink the Wine of Ages. I would've forced it down your throat, and look down at you as you died whilst Victoria watched from afar. That is how selfish I could've been, but I wasn't. I put your safety and your happiness before my own; even if it killed me to watch the man I love marry another woman. Do you have any idea what it's like to see the love of your life, disappear before you?"

"Yes, I do."

"You do?" Emily asked, stunned at his simple response.

"Yes. It happened when you flew off in to the moonlight. With a broken heart, I watched you fly away to freedom. It killed me to watch you go. But I kept saying to myself "the love of my life is happy, but why can't I share it with her?" Have you any idea what pain I've been going through the past five months, knowing you weren't here beside me? I locked myself away in my room, counting every single day in the hope that you would come back to me. But no. Instead, you chose to turn the page and move on with your own life, leaving me behind" Victor began to shout, his voice growing in temper and anger.

"Don't make it sound like I'm the guilty one. We're both guilty!" Emily screeched.

"How are we both guilty?"

"We both made the wrong decision. I chose for you to be happy with Victoria and move on with my life, you chose to love me and wait for my return, whenever it would be. Evidently, we both went in to a state of depression, hoping time would naturally heal our wounds. I was guilty for moving on, and you were guilty for…"

"Loving you? When I should've loved Victoria?" Victor asked slowly creeping closer to Emily.

"Yes. You were guilty for that." Emily nodded.

"I don't feel guilty for loving you. It feels natural." Victor stopped in his tracks, when he realised he was incredibly close to Emily, their eyes meeting.

"So you've loved me this entire time?" Emily asked, whispering.

"Every day Emily. With not one single regret" Victor replied, placing his hand on hers that lay by her side. "And now you're back. And we're getting married." At this thought, Emily couldn't help but smile.

"Yes we are. I'm going to be your wife!"

"We're going to be the new Mr and Mrs Van Dort."

"Mrs Emily Van Dort. It has a ring to it" Emily smiled more, watching as Victor brought his face to hers, just inches from touching. She closed her eyes, awaiting her first kiss from him. She could feel him coming closer, his other hand cupping her cheek as he began to close the space between them.

They were just seconds from kissing…when a small cough echoed across the hall.

Emily's eyes snapped open, as she turned to see her mother, watching them from across the hallway. Victor turned to see their small audience, slowly pulling away from Emily in embarrassment, silently cursing himself for not taking the opportunity to kiss her whilst they were alone.

"You two shouldn't be alone together. Let alone coming close before your wedding – but at least we've established that this will be a successful ceremony. Now if you two don't mind, we have a rehearsal to attend." With that, Mrs Hunter turned and walked back to the room she came from. As soon as she had shut the door behind her, Emily turned to Victor.

"Think of it like this. That kiss that should've happened…will be our marriage kiss. Save it for the altar, Victor" she smiled at him, his cheeks glowing a bright red. He smiled back at her, making a mental promise that their first kiss as a married couple would be the best ever. Taking her hand in his, he raised it to his lips and kissed it lightly in a gentlemanly manner.

"This is just something to hold on to until tomorrow" he said. Taking her whole hand in his, he began walking towards the room, playfully dragging Emily behind him.

"You know your vows?" she asked.

"They are the only words I have said since you departed. Until now" he said, approaching the door and taking the handle in his other free hand. Smiling playfully like little children, they walked through the door and embraced the stares from their parents and Pastor Gaswells.


	4. The Long Awaited Wedding

**Chapter Four: The Long Awaited Wedding:**

Dressed in his finest suit, awaiting his bride at the altar, stood Victor. Beaming with happiness and love, he listened – with his back turned to the crowd – to everyone taking their seats. The last time he had heard that sound, he was surrounded by corpses and skeletons reunited with their loved ones. Everyone was happy. There was a wedding, the couple were in love, and even the smallest of details were perfect. Now Victor was experiencing this sensation all over again. At any moment, the organ would come alive with 'the wedding march' booming across the church, and he would turn to see his bride walking down the aisle. He couldn't wait any longer. It was too much excitement for him to take. He was jumping around like a little child in a sweet shop.

"Patience, Victor" his mother hissed from the front row of the crowd. His father sat beside her, glancing at his watch then smiling to his son, silently reassuring him. Victor was sure his bride was taking as long as she needed to look her most perfect, but to him, she was already perfect. She could walk down the aisle in the dirtiest of clothes and in his eyes, she would still look beautiful. He sighed, attempting to release some of his adrenaline, but failing.

Where was Emily?

Meanwhile:

"We're going to be late!" Emily squealed as she checked her watch, admiring her mother's hair pin in her mirror as she sat at her dressing table.

"Fashionably late, Emily dear. We don't want you getting married and looking scruffy" her mother replied. "Now, which colour? Pink or red?" she added, holding two lipstick tubes in front of her daughters face.

"Pink. It always matches my skin. Red makes me look pale." Emily answered, taking the chosen tube in her hand and applying it carefully.

"Perfect. OK, are we ready to go now?"

"Just one last touch" her mother said, revealing a square box from behind her back.

"You have something new and borrowed; now you need something old and blue. And I have just the thing. Your grandmother left this to me when she passed away, saying it was her present to you for your wedding day. Since the reading of the will, it has been tucked away in my bedroom for eleven years. And now the day has come."

Emily's mother smiled as she turned the box towards her, opening it wide like a clam shell. Inside was the most beautiful diamond necklace that anyone would ever see.

"It was designed by your grandmother, with you in mind. She knew you loved butterflies and roses when you were little. She hand-picked every diamond and watched them make it from scratch. Isn't it beautiful?"

Emily was amazed. It was perfect in every way. The chain was laced with diamonds, meeting a delicate rose shaped pendant, coloured lightly with blue. In the middle of the rose, nestled a dark blue diamond butterfly, its wings glistening in the light that streamed through the windows.

"It is. It's beautiful. This is for me? Just for me?" Emily looked up to her mother, as she began removing the necklace from its box.

"Just for you, and only for you." Her mother smiled, as she lowered the necklace over Emily's head and fastened it. "There. Perfect."

Emily sat in her seat, still as a statue, admiring the necklace. She brought her fingers to the rose pendant and caressed it lightly. A tear came to her eye. Not just with wonder, but with relief. If she had found that necklace three years ago when she planned to elope, she wouldn't be wearing it now. Lord Barkis would have it in his evil clutches, along with the rest of the riches and jewels he took from her.

Emily smiled at the thought that she finally had what she dreamed of, and that nothing could ruin it. Her dreams were now reality, and everything was perfect. Standing up from her seat and taking one last look in the mirror, Emily nodded with satisfaction.

"Perfect. OK, can we go now? I can't wait any longer to be married!"

At the church:

Ten minutes late. Where is she? Bouncing on the balls of his feet and constantly looking over to Pastor Gaswells – who returned with a look of impatience – Victor could only feel that the wedding was better with Elder Gutknecht leading the ceremony. Except this time, there was no poison, no skeletons and corpses behind him, and no Elder Gutknecht. But the one thing he definitely had was Emily. She was all he needed. He didn't need money, riches, and public status – just her. They could live on the streets in eternal poverty, but he would still be happy.

Glancing back to his father once again, who returned by looking at his watch, Victor could hear the sound of distant footsteps approaching the church. Light, graceful, feminine and clicking in heels. It was her. She was here. His bride was finally here!

Victor turned in time to see the doors of the church swing open, the organ bursting to life with music.

He saw Emily's mother walk forward towards her seat, a shadow of two people hiding in the doorway entrance of the church. Emily stood in her wedding gown with her father beside her. He planned to walk his only daughter down the aisle for the first and only time. He was dressed in the finest suit that could be tailored. The deepest of black, complete with a dark blue silk tie and a crisp clean white shirt.

Emily stood to his left, her wedding gown so spectacular. Since her mother's wedding gown was now back in the wardrobe and sworn by Emily to never be worn again, she had chosen the next best thing.

The gown was a strapless corset that highlighted Emily's slim figure, before plunging to create a perfect skirt that trailed behind her in a river of silk, splitting at the knees to show off her long legs. Her shoulders and arms were bare, but she wore the finest of fingerless gloves, showing off her perfect nails and her slender fingers. The veil was fashioned entirely from white lace, detailed with pearls around the edge, the headpiece finished with little pink roses. In her hand was her bouquet of fresh pink and red roses, white blooming lilies and baby's breath flowers. Although her dress was new, Emily decided she wanted the same flowers in her bouquet as before. And around her neck was the most beautiful diamond necklace anyone would lay eyes on.

Victor watched as Mr Hunter kissed his daughter on the cheek and lowered her veil over her perfect face. She looked like an angel.

The wedding march came alive through the church and on perfect cue, the entire crowd turned to see Emily walking down the aisle, her father by her side, flowers in hand and an obvious smile visible under her veil. She looked around to see every guest, smiling in return before turning to face the altar.

A smile of pure love, happiness and joy spread across both Victor and Emily's faces as Victor saw his bride approach him – the image of beauty and radiance.

Emily got the altar, her father letting go of her hand and passing her over to Victor, who held out a hand to his bride. Placing her hand in his, they continuously gazed at one another as Emily stood next to Victor.

"You look so beautiful" he said to her.

"Thank you" she replied, before turning to see Pastor Gaswells looking down at them from his towering height.

"Dearly beloved. We are gathered here today to join this man and this woman in marriage."

Later that day:

The wedding was a success! Both bride and groom had recited their vows properly and were pronounced man and wife to the applause of an emotional crowd. The newlyweds made their way to the reception, held at the Van Dort's mansion.

Hours in to the after-party, when the moon was bright and the sky was dark, Victor led Emily away from the reception. He took her hand in his and began teasing his new wife outside.

"Victor, what are you doing?" Emily asked, as Victor shut the door behind them.

"I can't tell you that" he smiled playfully, tugging her behind him as they made their way to the bridge that joined the village with the forest on the other side.

"Where are we going?"

"The bridge."

"Why the bridge?"

"You'll see. Now, close your eyes."

"What?" she asked.

"Close your eyes, for the surprise."

"Surprise?"

Emily sighed as she closed her eyes, feeling Victor bringing her up and halfway across the bridge. They stopped abruptly at the centre of the bridge, where Victor took Emily's hands in his.

"OK, open your eyes" he whispered. Upon cue, Emily fluttered her eyelids open and looked around her. She gasped as she saw how the bridge was bathed in moonlight, the calming sound of river water trickling underneath and the distant sound of wind rustling through the forest trees.

"The last time we were here together, we had only just met" Victor began.

"I remember. You were scared of me" Emily smiled. Victor chuckled in response.

"I wanted to give you a little unique present tonight that we can only experience together. The moonlight, the bridge, the water and the fact that we're alone. Our first dance as a married couple."

Victor moved closer to Emily, slipping one arm around her slender waist, his other hand slipping his fingers through hers so they clasped together. Emily brought her other hand up to Victor's shoulder, placing it lightly on his jacket as they became closer. They began dancing, bathed in the glorious moonlight that made them shine like diamonds, only the sound of water as their music and the company of each other to make them smile and gaze in to each other's eyes. Eventually, Victor pulled Emily closer to him, both hands moving on to her back, as she wrapped her arms around his neck, resting her head on his chest and closing her eyes. He nestled his chin on her shoulder and caught the light fragrance of roses in her hair. Closing their eyes and dancing together, the newlywed couple looked so peaceful, so relaxed, so content, so happy and so perfect together. They were two halves becoming one. Two broken hearts mended. Made for each other.

Moments passed before Emily spoke, her eyes remaining shut as she whispered to Victor.

"Will you love me, Victor? Will you love me until my dying day?"

Victor's eyes snapped open, his head remaining on her shoulder. He smiled to himself as he slowly pulled away, coming eye to eye with his bride.

"You don't need to ask, Emily. I'll be with you every day."

"Even when we're both rotting and dead, and down in the Land of the Dead. Will you still love me then?"

Victor smiled more, leaning closer to Emily. Gently whispering in her ear, he answered:

"Much longer than that, Emily. Oh, so much longer."

And with that, he leaned in and kissed her.

Their first proper kiss as a married couple, in the most beautiful place they could think of.

On the bridge.

In the moonlight.

Newlywed.

Together.

The End.


End file.
